Essay

What makes me special? What makes me me?

Descendant from vikings and starches- I Chryseis, my wild red-orange hair leaving scant trace evidence of the cherokee nation in the wind as I fly down the superhighway of space and time in a custom hot air balloon! Cowgirl by night, I naturally lassoed the moon to whisk myself away to unseen worlds. "Leave no phosphorescent glow unturned and speak not of fear for the vast unknown what lay at our fingertips!"

Well, at least in my mind. For mine is one imagination with no box. Nor corners, window ledges, doorstops, nor dead bolted steel traps. Nay!, for I, being a free and lighthearted soul, with the silly air of a naive girl in springtime rolling about the flowers in unkept blissfulness, hold no exact definitions in my ever-expanding dictionary! Instead meanings and impressions of the words. Defined by color, scent, and flavor.

'Who the fuck is this girl?! ', you may ask. And to which I reply, 'eh, I make pictures.'

"However do you mean?", widening curiosity replies.

'Well, photographs. An image maker, a photographer, if you will.'

And the plot thickens. Why? In a world with vast technology and limitless possibility of different ways in which to be a working professional, would I choose…to be an artist?

Might I have been an astronomer? Clearly, I enjoy space and otherworldly, unseen, unimaginable beauties and mysteries to be discovered. An archeologist? For still, sensed is a deep and profound want to unearth terrestrial pleasures. A mathematician? To embrace the need for communication with all, and as we all know, numbers are the universal language. Any number of adventurous works lay at my feet with all the, (clearly imaginable), possibilities that could be or could have been. I can see there, on the bridge of my nose, every potential path I could have taken, as I am one with no limit to the imagination. Naturally, the veils that scantily separate the fabric of space-time, parallel universes, and the like, are impervious to my gaze.

So, widening curiosity, I am not sure why. All I know is that it happened this way. In this, being the present and reality: I came upon the camera. I found it to be the most suitable means of expressing my thoughts, loves, and desires. My love of light, color, people, and the world in which I find myself, are all within my grasp. No other profession, having such loves, will do. I must make images. And share them. It is my hope that they will be enjoyed by others. That my photographs might be the daydreamer's window for those who see walls. That other dreamers and myself might collaborate to create bigger dreams, that more windowless beating hearts might see!

And thus, I studied at the Portfolio Center, In Atlanta, Ga. A place a constant whir of ideas. A place so thick with them, you literally have to hold your breath to keep from thinking.

And now, I exist, an image maker, photographer, and creative. Ever-whisking through the landscape for the next step. Spelunking the caves of productivity. Cascading down rivers of glittering ideas to create the next image.